


Volatile Memory

by cunning_capra



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Blood and Violence, Gen, Genre typical body modification, GoroBigBang2020, Human Experimentation, M/M, Mentions of sex work, Pseudoscience, Robot Body Horror, Romance, Science Fiction, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cunning_capra/pseuds/cunning_capra
Summary: In the underbelly of Neo-Shibuya, former corporate hitman Goro Akechi is on the run with the prized creation of ArkTech itself - L0K-1.exe, possibly the world’s greatest weapon. Aiding him is the mysterious J, an anonymous fixer looking to right the social pecking order once and for all. With CEO Masayoshi Shido and head researcher Dr. Maruki fighting for control of Tokyo (and possession of L0k-1), Goro and J must navigate the city, the growing tension between them, and protect the future of the city (if there is one at all).
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 33
Kudos: 46
Collections: Goro Big Bang 2020





	1. Rogue Entity

**Author's Note:**

> Happy posting day everyone! I can't believe I finally get to share this story with you all! This has been a passion project in its purest form and is so deeply self indulgent. This story dragged me through the tail end of 2020, and honestly helped me so much in terms of finding myself and my voice again. 
> 
> To my artists, [glancenuggets](https://twitter.com/glancenuggets) and [wyllora](https://twitter.com/wyllora) I'm so excited that I got to work with you on this! These two have done beautiful work. Please check them out on twitter to see more of their art, they deserve the attention and some follows!
> 
> Without further ado, welcome to Act One of Volatile Memory!!!

__

_> Are you sure you want to dismantle L0k-1.exe and reset your OS to factory settings?_

_**> Yes**_

_ > No_

It is the sound of helicopters overhead that wakes him.

He sits up with a start, heart beating erratically in his chest. The smell of mildew is the first thing that hits him. The condemned apartment he had broken into the day before is yawning and empty in its stillness. The city lights of Neo Shibuya are visible through the slats of plywood on the boarded up windows, neon and golden in the darkness.

Outside, he can hear the telltale buzz of propellers.

His cybernetic display boots itself up automatically, the old program running into overdrive already as it pulls up processes. Streams of code flicker across his vision, before cutting out to his usual interface. The clock reads three am.

In the top right his alerts pop into view; 10 unread messages, 7 missed calls. He doesn’t bother with them, instead quickly navigating to an icon on the lower half of the optic, a small red eye, barely any bigger than a fingernail with dark red lettering scrolling across the screen beside it. The pixels glitch in and out of transparency: _Run_.

His bag is packed in under a minute, and he is out the door in five - dark clothes clinging to him like a second shadow as he runs over the metal flooring of the old high rise. The halls fare little better than the dilapidated rooms, steel beams exposed to the outside, walls crumbling away.

The bright white of a searchlight flashes through a crack in the old plaster, and he falls into a crouch, holding his breath as the light sweeps just overhead. He tracks its movement across the rotting rug.

He breathes a sigh of relief when it disappears around the curve of the hallway, but it's short lived. The building sways suddenly and he grips onto the nearest door frame for stability as the building rattles around him. Even the old shock absorbers in the foundation are no match for modern corporate power he realizes, heart sinking. The building has been boarded.

He is hardly the only one camping out in this shell of a forgotten building - there are crashes of furniture and a collection of shouts from the floor above. The heavy sound of footsteps comes from down the hall, and two figures spring past, disappearing into a room. A canister of gas is launched around the corner towards them, exploding into a purple, sweet smelling haze.

Goro pulls down his hood and fumbles a moment with the gas mask slung low around his neck, hands slick with sweat as he secures it in place. His lungs already feel tight, the sickeningly perfumed scent of the gas already in his nostrils. His eyes burn, and he squints down the way it had come from.

“J." Goro says, aloud to himself. Even after months of planning and weeks of one-sided conversations, the words feel clumsy in his mouth, thick and unwieldy. “What on earth happened to ‘discrete’ lodgings?”

 _Oops?_ his co-conspirator responds, text flying across the screen of his optics. _Not my fault you’re a wanted man._

“Shut it." Goro says, letting out an annoyed huff through the respirator.

He can’t be sure. Can’t be sure that J hadn’t lured him into a trap and made him easy pickings. That J isn’t in ArkTech’s pocket. Another toy. Another game.

Just like always.

( _ **Do you want to make a deal?** J had asked, all those weeks ago, red letters spilling over the report Goro had been reading on his datapad. A simple red icon glowing like a beacon at the end of a tunnel. _

_Goro hadn’t had anything left to lose in saying yes_.)

He doesn’t trust J. He can’t trust J, not for the scheming and silence or near omniscience. J knows too much and reveals too little. He’s dangerous.

And that’s why J is also the only chance at freedom that he’s got.

Cautiously he slips out of the doorway, listening to the tell tale tread of military grade boots. The gas gives him just enough cover to make it a quarter down the stretch of the hall towards the stairs when a shout informs him that he’s been seen.

 _Duck!_ J’s text reads, and Goro dives to the ground as a barrage of bullets hits the wall behind him. He crawls behind an old partition and watches as a map overlay appears on his display. A fluorescent arrow descends through the blueprints of the building, showing him where to go.

Goro dispels the overlay, zooming in the scope of his ocular lenses to get a better look at his assailants as he leans around the partition. The old OS doesn’t hold a candle to the tech he’s used to, the images are grainy and pixelated enough to strain his eyes.

J pings a location on his map insistently.

"I know how to use stairs, fucker." Goro growls under his breath.

 _> :( _says J.

Goro rolls his eyes, watching as a patrol of operatives clear the gass, the sterile white of their uniform a blatant eyesore. As they split off to check the rest of the rooms on this floor, he wishes suddenly - fiercely - that he hadn’t left behind his gun. He pats his thigh, where the empty holster is strapped out of habit. He misses the solid weight of his gun.

But ArkTech tracks all their weapons with microscopic chips embedded in the intricate make of their munition. Goro remembers the first time he had tried to dismantle a company gun - nothing but a handgun, and the white barrel had glistened in the light, new and untarnished. It had been heavy then, weighed down by attachments and the thick cloak of expectation.

The explosion when he had carefully pried open the magazine chamber had nearly taken his fingers off.

And so maybe Goro Akechi, former hitman and poster child for ArkTech is technically unarmed- that means nothing. After all, not all weapons are firearms.

Goro pulls his stun-knuckles out of his bag, pressing them to the ground with light taps and watching as they spark to life with electricity.

A mask clatters to the ground behind him, dislodged by the knuckles. It is scratched to all hell, glossy black scuffed and dulled. The left red lens is cracked, and one of its tall, white striped horns is missing.

He considers leaving it there. He can forget. He can move on. But something makes him turn. Something makes him pick up the heavy piece of metal, lip twisting in displeasure. He shoves it back into his pocket, skin crawling where it had made contact with his flesh.

_Three going down the right. One coming straight for you._

Great, Goro thinks, shaking himself out of his thoughts. Just what he needs. He weighs his options, before skulking his way to the edge of the partition, fingers grazing the old metal and plaster. ‘ _In Neo Shibuya, everyone has a view!’_ the old posters read, peeling off the cracked walls, and Goro snorts. These apartments had been built a quarter of a century ago, quick, efficient and cheap housing for a quickly booming population spike. And the district had kept expanding up and up and up - and in time, the poorly crafted skyscrapers had fallen into disrepair, fallen into the hands of gangs, or been torn down to make room for new institutions and fancy high rises.

Now they were just carved out trash, for the undesirables to squat in squalor, while the company men luxuriated in pristine, fortified buildings.

There is a shuffling sound from nearby, and Goro chances a peak, barely craning around the corner in time to see a lone figure coming down the darkened hall.

“There you are." He murmurs, tightening his hands into fists. He braces himself against the wall of the partition, counting each step that comes closer; six, seven, _eight --!_

"What the-" The figure begins to say, reaching for their comm, but Goro is too fast for them, too many years of work under his belt. His blood burns with adrenaline as he knocks the man upside the head, and wrestles him to the ground. He kneels over him, breathing heavily. He feels a pang of excitement, of unadulterated elation spiral down his spine, and his display flashes red for a moment -- but no, it must have been but a trick of the light.

He is holding the operative's gun - doesn’t remember grabbing it in the tussle but there it is, light and compact in his grip. An Okumura model, he thinks, feeling the intricate engraving in the grip with his nails. They make eye contact as he looks down the sight at them, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish, already one gasp past the threshold of death.

( _“You must always make eye contact when you take a shot, Goro.” A voice says behind him, roughly pushing his shoulders into place. Goro almost falls over. “Look your target dead in the eyes and find your resolve.”_

_The fluorescent lights of the shooting range hurt his eyes, and his feet are sore from standing so long in one place. He is hungry, hasn’t eaten since last night, and doesn’t know when he will be fed again. He thinks of his mother, of being tucked into her side in their small bed in their small flat._

_Goro sets his mouth in a frown, irritation prickling down his spine. He feels like a balloon buoyed by hot air, ready to spill over and take flight._

_“Again.” The voice says and Goro hates it. Hates him. Wants to turn around and kick and scream-_

_He squeezes the trigger._

_He is eight._ )

 _Another chopper is on the way, J says,_ and Goro doesn't need to think twice. He drops the gun and knees the man roughly in the stomach, relishing only a moment in the dull thud and wheeze as the air leaves the man’s lungs.

But these aren’t the old days when he could stand and gloat before flitting into the shadows. J’s frantic messages urge him to his feet, heart pounding in his ears, as he rounds the corner and throws open the door to the stairwell. His footsteps echo loudly as he pounds down a flight, then launches himself over the railing to drop to a lower landing, continuing his descent at a sprint.

"Exits?" Goro pants, turning another corner of the stairwell. The repetitive motion is giving him vertigo, and his stomach flips unhappily as he whips his head around to look behind him.

_Clear. Patrol down the main road. You'll have to take the river._

"You're joking." Goro grits out, lungs burning. He’d been on desk duty for the past few months, hasn’t seen the field in what feels like ages, and his legs are heavy as lead as he finally bursts out of the stairwell, feet finding their path forward yet again.

_Sorry._

The ground floor is empty, and Goro slinks across the floor desperately, trying to keep quiet and low to the ground as he hurries towards a side door and bursts out next to the river. It is loud and roaring to his ears, and above he can still hear the annoying thrum of a helicopter hovering in flight. There is a commotion on the main road, Goro can see the flashing lights of law enforcement, and he groans.

"God I hate you." He grouses, already pulling himself up over the barrier. J only sends a heart in reply.

===

The waterways of Neo Shibuya are far from clean and the stagnant water is nearly green muck with the years of pollution. It smells strongly of rotten eggs and something acridly chemical, that tickles Goro’s nose. The sludge sticks to the bottoms of his boots and he curses as he tries to scrape it off on the pavement.

“Fuck." Goro hisses to the open air. His hair is matted to his forehead, and although it is futile, he attempts to wring water from his gloves. The alley is empty, save for an old pink vending machine that blinks merrily to life when he walks past it, playing a tinny and distorted jingle.

There is no sign of helicopters on this side of the city - in fact, there is very little sign of _any_ life in these back alleys - a 24-hour cafe light blinks in the distance off the side of a skyscraper, and a holo advertisement for some new idol group plays on a billboard.

The streets are quiet.

It sets Goro’s teeth on edge.

It doesn’t seem like Ark’s men will find him, but the anticipation burns in his gut like an ember.

J’s message appears in a slow crawl, _Squadron moving towards the east side of the city. Standby._

There is only one person who has been aware of his movements thus far, he realizes, anger reignited. There is only one person with the information to drag him down.

“How did they find me.” he asks aloud, his voice echoing in the tight corridor of the alleyway. His hands curl into fists and it is all he can do to keep his tone even. “They shouldn’t be able to track my coordinates.”

 _You know how_ , J says, text glitching across Goro’s screen.

“No. I encrypted and disabled the program files.” Goro bites out. “I reset my devices and installed a generic OS. There is no ArkTech on me. It… The program is gone. How did they find me J.”

His question is followed by silence. He groans in frustration and runs his hands through his wet hair.

"Great! Just fucking great. The one time I want you to fucking talk you go mute." Goro hisses out.

 _Sorry_ , J says finally, as Goro is scraping coins from his soggy pockets an hour later at a brightly lit automated food kiosk.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it." Goro snaps, kicking the machine to get it working. Half the kiosks on this side of town are in bad need of repair - this was the only one he'd found that still had a working hot water pump. He punches in number 6B and watches the light go green as his cup of ramen drops down to be prepped. "If you don't have answers for me, don't bother saying anything at all."

The silence that follows is excruciating. The plexiglass panel of the machine opens and Goro grabs his ramen and drinks straight from the cup without bothering to look at the expiration date.

He already knows it’s past due.

 _It's complicated,_ J says. _You know it's complicated._

It's always complicated, Goro wants to say. Wants to scream to the cold and darkness of whatever neighborhood of Tokyo he's stumbled into now. It's always fucking complicated and he’s tired of being left in the dark.

"Confidential?" he asks instead, chewing at a noodle that didn't rehydrate properly.

 _Complicated_ , J repeats.

Goro sighs in frustration and gulps down another mouthful of noodles in silence. Old wanted posters litter the streets here, plastered across old metal and glass. One crumples underfoot, bold letters fading in the heavy rain. “ _JOKER: Have you seen this man?_ ” they read. " _Wanted for insurrection against the corporate government._ ”. He rolls his eyes.

"Is it L0k-1?" He asks once he's swallowed the remaining dredges of his sad dinner. Because it's always L0k-1. It always has been.

The words feel strange in the open of the city street, so used to being whispered behind closed office doors and in the hushed voices of meetings. It feels like a prayer to a new god. Like a call to destruction and death.

His hands itch with anticipation and he clenches them into tight fists and evens his breathing. Black Mask is...gone. It's behind him now it's okay.

 _Yes,_ J says, and it’s enough to make Goro feel as if he’s been ducked back in the freezing water of the Shibuya River. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, suddenly exhausted.

He knows now at least what he has to do.

===

The only hostel Goro had been able to afford doubled as a brothel.

“No thank you." He said softly when the woman at the desk had tried to hand over the ‘ _menu’_. “I’m not interested.”

“In women, or our wares?” She asked, her eyes twin glowing pink hearts. He had shaken his head ruefully and asked to see his room.

He had grown up in places like this. In the loud and crowded spaces of a world not meant for children - but had to his boyish eyes seemed a frilly paradise; Each woman a leading actress in the wings, blossoming before the mirror. Always a kind word or loving hand to card through his head of soft curls. He had wanted to stay in that world forever, sitting with the girls around the card table during meals while waiting for his mother to finish with a client.

It was only when his mother had returned with her first bruise to the cheek that reality had come crashing down.

The room is a small, dingy thing: three gray walls with two beds, two dressers, and one wall-length window. Goro had paid the extra credits to secure the room entirely for himself for his own safety and peace of mind. He sighs, running his fingers through his long tangled hair, and tries to think straight.

J has been inconspicuously quiet, he realizes, as he settles on the floor, tipping his head back against one of the old mattresses. His body aches with the exertion of the day, but the waves of sleep cannot take him yet, as much as his eyes beg to roll shut. He takes a deep breath, trying to fight off the weariness that plagues him, and rifles through his bag for a datapad (he had swiped it from a laboratory intern during their intake), swiping it open and thumbing through a handful of programs before opening the wireless application tool with a disgruntled flick of his wrist.

“This better work." he mutters, rolling up his sleeve.

 _What are you doing?_ J asks, interest apparently piqued. Goro snorts, swiping through a couple of pop-ups before pressing the run button, waiting as he watches the application load.

“It’s not gone right?” Goro says. "The fucking file is still _in there_ with a tracker on it _,_ causing issues, so if I could just-”

 _Hey, wait-_ J begins to say, but that’s the last he’s able to read before the jolt races up his arm like fire.

“Motherfucker!” he hisses, dropping his datapad and shaking his arm violently to try and dispel the violent shooting pain.

 _I told you to wait,_ J’s response comes quickly, _there was no way a basic wireless connection would hook you up to something as heavily encrypted as an ArkTech beta-weapon. You’d need a runner. I could-_

“Oh shut up." Goro slams his head back against the mattress roughly, gritting his teeth as the pain finally, finally subsides.

“Fucking… Shido.” He growls, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath. He should have known there would be extra safeguards to prevent a security breach. If it had been so easy, if it had been so simple, he would have been safe from the corporation long ago. There would be no corporate state. He’d been foolish. Naive. He was never going to escape.

 _Are you alright?_ J asks, and Goro laughs hysterically, grabbing a pillow off the bed. He grasps at it with such force that it tears, feathers bursting from its seams. In his frustration, he flings it across the room towards the windows.

“Am I alright?” He asks, voice breaking. “Am I _alright_?!”

He gets to his feet, kicking the datapad out of sight under one of the beds and pacing wildly back and forth. He doesn’t know what to do now, what the point of any of this is. If trashing the files hadn’t worked, and accessing them isn’t an option either… what is he left with short of ripping off his own arm. The edges of his vision burn red and he drags a hand down his cheek in dismay. It’s not going to stop unless he takes this into his own hands.

He could acquire a knife he supposes, he could-

 _Breathe,_ J types, _Your vitals are going haywire, you need to calm down._

“You try having a piece of metal trapped in your arm against your will.” Goro snaps. “You try having your life controlled at the whim of other humans for the entirety of your existence. And then! Then _you_ try and calm down!”

His cheeks are wet he realizes, reaching up to touch his damp face. He blinks in surprise, turning to see his reflection in the dark of the window. The boy looking back is crying. He looks young and angry and... Goro swallows.

And alone.

 _It’s okay,_ J says, as if reading his mind, _I’m with you._

“Bullshit.” Goro says quietly, sinking to his knees on the hard floor. Feathers cover the old wood, and he presses his face into them and allows himself to cry.


	2. Lost Cause

Goro manages a whole 12 hours of sleep before he wakes, curled on the floor in a mess of his own making. Which isn't particularly out of the ordinary, all things considered. Goro is used to making messes, and even more familiar with cleaning them up.

It’s the company that makes the entire scenario odd, however.

 _Good morning,_ J says, message blurring across Goro’s optics. Goro lies in the heap of feathers, tangled in a blanket he must have dragged off one of the beds in his sleep, programs still whirring to life. 

“Umm. Good morning?” Goro says with a croak. He sits upright, the world spinning rapidly. His legs hurt to all hell, but all things considered, he feels pretty okay. Or as okay as one can feel after the chase scene of a lifetime. He rubs his head and looks around the room. The datapad is still under the bed where he had discarded it.

Sighing, he shuffles on his knees across the floor, and wiggles halfway under the bed to grab the pad. 

_How’re you feeling?_ J asks.

“Uh.” Goro says, his upper body currently shoved under a piece of furniture. 

J isn’t usually this...whatever this is. “I’m. Alright?” he grabs the datapad and begins to wiggle back out to freedom.

 _I’m glad,_ J says, _Did you sleep well?_

Goro hits his head on the way back out. He hisses in pain, rolling onto his back and staring up at the low, dingey ceiling, trying to swallow back a swear and angry retort. Instead, confusion rolls through his stomach, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“I suppose.” he says to the darkness behind his lids. He opens his eyes, and sits upright, rubbing his sore head. 

He feels distinctly uncomfortable with the questions, isn’t used to someone asking him these things. The last person had been his -

Well. 

"I want to take another crack at the program." Goro says instead, flush filtering over his cheeks, his ears, his shoulders. He tries to shake it off. "I'm sure there's a means of getting in."

 _A ripperdoc might be able to datamine some information off of it_ , J types slowly, _Or..._

"Or-?"

_It’s a risk but...I could try and run past a low level of ICE by tracing L0k-1's homing signal back into the Ark server and patch in remotely via your hardware._

"Could you do that?" Goro asks, surprise tinging his voice. He drums his fingers on the hard ground. If J had been able to do something like that all along... why had he bothered recruiting Goro?

 _I can try_ , J says, _I'm not a cracker by any stretch of the imagination but… I can probably get us access to the main program files._

"Fuck, okay." Goro says, mind racing. "What's the worst that can happen?"

 _I don't think you want me to answer that_ , J says, _But we’ll get nowhere by sitting around considering what-ifs. Now give me a minute to jack in._

Goro's vision fizzles, HUD trembling in and out of focus. Goro is reminded suddenly of an eye exam he had received as a child, his childlike, organic eyes adjusting and readjusting to different blurry images of a far off hot air balloon.

_("Thank god." his mother says, ruffling his hair when his eyesight comes back perfect. "I wouldn't have been able to afford an optic installation anyways."_

_Goro doesn't have the heart to tell his mother that he begged the medtechie to change the numbers._

_It's not until Goro takes aim at his first target that anyone notices his vision is off. He undergoes surgery a week later.)_

Now, the apertures of his implants open and shut rapidly, struggling to grasp their surroundings. Goro closes his eyes against the impending headache. His HUD snaps into sudden clarity, the glowing red eye expanding across his screen with a chime.

It blinks.

"Oh! There we go." A low voice says, filtering through audio processors, and Goro's eyes snap open.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" The voice says, a smirk audible in his tone. "Your heart rate jumped I see. Do you always keep that open in your HUD? I can see it spiking now, that can't be good for your health-"

"Shut the fuck up." Goro snaps, disoriented. He shivers, the proximity of the voice, of someone rattling around his central network... it's discomforting. The intimacy of it is staggering. "I didn't expect..."

"Ah, so you're charmed by my voice." J says, and Goro watches as programs and processes open and close through his vision. It's odd to see them working without any of his own interference. He swallows tightly, unable to shake off the clawing fear of loss of control. "Ah- there we go. Hello, L0k-1."

"Are you sure this will work?" Goro asks, and J hums in his ear.

"Let me just boot up my signal tracker and - Yes it should work, at least to some degree. Low levels of ArkTech ICE are easy enough to get past. However, chances are it'll trigger some defense protocols all the same, so the chances of staying undetected...are slim."

"Could we sever the connection?" Goro asks, looking up at the ceiling.

"Negative, on that." J says. "We'd have to get a ripperdoc involved, in order to ensure a runner doesn't issue a counterattack and fry...well. Your brain."

"Ah. So that’s the worst that could happen."

"Mhhm." There’s silence, and lines of code steadily work across an open interface. "Ok, tell me if your arm starts uh. Tingling again."

"Tingling is not the word I would use." Goro grouses, shoulders tensing. "It was more like an electric shock-"

"Anddd we're patching through." J announces, cutting him off. The HUD freezes, and Goro smacks his hand against his temple twice to get it going again, watching a small green loading bar flash into view. "Everything feel okay?"

"Physically? Yes. Emotionally? I'll be scarred by this intrusion of my privacy for the rest of my life.” Goro mutters. He feels, rather than hears, J's laugh. It tickles against his nervous system.

His palms are sweaty, he realizes, and his heart rate is still ratcheting upwards - he doesn't even need to look at his UI to know that much.

"I'll be out of your hair soon." J says reasonably.

They sit in silence, watching the loading bar inch closer and closer to completion.

"We can't take too long once we're in." J says. "We need to just dig around in the system files and try and see if we can't deactivate any sort of product ID or external satellite transmitter. Anything else will have to come secondary."

Goro gnaws on his lip. "However, any files we can find could potentially mean the ruin of ArkTech. Wouldn't we rather go after those-?"

"We need to secure your safety first, then we can try and -"

"Why do you even care?" Goro asks. "I'm just a means to an end right? I'm expendable, it's the chip that's not. You could easily harvest the chip once I kick it, so what's the point? Why go to all this trouble."

"No life is expendable." J responds sharply, voice dipping low. "Is it so bad that I want to help you? To keep you safe? Isn't that what friends do?"

"I wouldn't know." Goro snaps in frustration. " _I don't have any_."

A folder has opened on Goro's screen. He tries to blink away the blur but realizes it's to protect the contents from being seen.

"It's password protected." he realizes. He really hopes this isn’t the end of the line for this foray into ArkTech’s system files. “We won’t be able to see past this stupid mosaic if we don’t have the code.”

"Mhm." J says. "Now give me just a second to-"

The folder snaps into focus. Heart in his mouth, Goro quickly glances down the list. He feels a little like he’s going to be sick. His scans the files, trying desperately to filter out the nonsense from that of import- temp files, a system updater that might be important to take out -

Joker’s voice cuts through his thoughts like a knife through butter, warm voice snapping him into the present.

"We're looking for possibly a file - a connection to a server, a weirdly named document..."

But Goro isn’t listening. Blood running cold, he stares at the folder in silent horror, mouth opening and closing, trying to articulate a coherent thought.

"What’s. What's that?" Goro asks, voice faint. Emotions he doesn't understand bubbling to the surface.

The file looks back at him mockingly, the words burning into his brain. Shakily, he attempts to swipe it open, but nothing happens. 

“We can’t just open things as we like." J tells him, and Goro watches, tension crawling up his neck as he opens and checks another folder. Goro tries again to open the file, but the command is again denied. 

J has assumed control. 

Anger boils under his skin, so hot it could burn. _How dare he._

"This is my network, let me access it." He growls warningly. He tries a third time to open it, but J blocks the motion yet again. “You think you can just take away my autonomy, my control over my own systems?”

“Goro-”

Goro wishes he could turn his display off, that he could stop seeing that name behind his closed eyelids. 

_AkechiKimiko.mov_

"That's my. That's my mother's name." Goro says, growing increasingly more desperate. " You don't. You don't understand. Why is it in here? "

"Goro we don't have time." J pleads urgently. "Please -"

The screen blinks red and a loud ringing noise fills his audio processors. Goro hisses, his arm spiking with pain. This time it's bearable and he grits his teeth.

"Shit." J spits. "We've been noticed. I must have tripped a firewall on the way in."

"Good work." Goro growls. "Now can we please-"

"We have to get out now." J says, voice bordering on pleading. "Goro I understand, I do, but we can't, not right now. We have to focus on getting ourselves out and getting you to a ripperdoc as quickly as possible. Even for a beta weapon the security is just too high - what even- What are -?"

"Jesus fuck." The pressure in Goro's arm is increasing and he strains his neck, taking deep breaths. "Can you get us out of here?"

"I don't know, I'm trying but it's not..." J says, sounding panicked. "I'm. I told you this was a risk. Something is. Something is being uploaded through our connection and I can't. I can't break the ICE on it."

Goro racks his brain, trying to push beyond the mounting pain spreading through the right side of his body.

"Can you run a program?"

"A program?" J asks. "Goro, now's not the time."

"Run Robin Hood executable as admin." Goro insists. "You have to trust me on this."

"Shit I-"

"Do you trust me or not?" he demands.

"Yes." J chokes. "Of course I do. Just a minute.”

The familiar avatar loading into view doesn’t provide the comfort Goro thought it would. Instead, the dread only sinks its claws deeper, the backward R, the bold H… All they do is remind Goro of a time long past. The nights he spent slaving over this program. For hope. For safety. For protection.

And how it had been used against him.

 _> Detecting malware..._ the program client reads, _ejecting and freezing all network connections... Debilitate activated... Fortification underway…_

_> Would you like to continue with Almighty?_

“Goro what is this?” J asks, voice tinged with apprehension. His voice sounds far away. 

“Sorry, you’re about to be disconnected from the system." Goro says. He finds he has regained control of his interface, and immediately turns to scrolling through his processes. He knows the system will be restarting soon, so he only has a moment- He cancels the next program action quickly, and screenshots the folder’s contents. 

“You asked me if I trusted you. But do you even trust me?”

"No." Goro says. "I don't."

_> Initiating reboot_

“Goro-”

J’s voice cuts out with a _pop!,_ and Goro’s HUD flickers and disappears. 

He gulps in a deep breath, then another, trying to center himself. Now that the fear and adrenaline have worn off, so too does the irritation melt away into understanding. 

“Fuck." He says roughly, resting his head in his shaking hands. He might have really fucked up this time, he thinks. Endangering both himself and J over... what? A woman who had been dead for the majority of his life?. 

“Fuck." He says again, voice quivering. With a blink, his OS begins to whir back to life, and Goro shivers, cursing himself. 

_Do you want to explain what happened back there?_ J asks, letters sliding across Goro’s UI once the display comes fully into view. It’s odd, the silence, now that he's heard J’s voice. The room feels larger, emptier than it was before. Goro sighs, and massages his right elbow, flexing the arm.

They sit in silence a moment, and Goro tries to shake the guilt clawing at his stomach.

“I’m sorry." he says finally. "I’m sorry, I .. _I’m trying_ to trust you it’s just-”

 _You were scared,_ J responds, _you were upset, your vitals were going crazy, and I ignored it. After last night i should have known better than to-_

“It’s not your fault." Goro interrupts. "I was...emotionally compromised. It’s okay. We’ve just. We’ve just got to find ourselves a ripperdoc now right?”

 _Right_ , J says, _but Goro what was…?_

“Robin Hood…” Goro says. He looks down at his hands, clenching them into such tight fists that his nails leave half moon marks in his palms. "I created Robin Hood to counter L0k-1’s...call.”

_Call?_

“When… When L0k-1 is used I can go...under. The AI is extremely unstable and disagrees with my neural network. It’s still a work in progress. I can sometimes lose days at a time, when my...when the director initiates _‘Call of Chaos_ ’.”

_How long have you-?_

“Since I was fourteen,” Goro murmurs, “Though they were prepping and augmenting me in the facility from the time I was seven.” His throat feels tight, and he coughs, trying to clear it. However the blockage seems to be emotional in nature, because the sensation remains the same.

 _Shit,_ Joker says. 

Goro rubs his temple, and sighs, “Yeah.”

_You were...taken from your family?_

“You could say that,” Goro says, laughing humorlessly. “My mother died when I was young. My father is. My father was useless scum.”

 _That’s not right. Humans aren’t...things to be passed around like objects._ J writes, _I’m sorry._

“‘S fine,” Goro mutters.

_(“Mama will be right back,” his mother says, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. Her mouth is painted a deep red, and she’s wearing the high heels again. The ones that make her tower over him, larger than life. Like this, Kimiko looks less like the mother who sings him to sleep or plays hide and seek in the clothing racks - and more like a stranger, “When I’m done, we can go home, okay?”_

_It scares him. He feels as if he blinks, she will disappear. His lower lip trembles._

_“Okay,” Goro says quietly.)_

The room feels too small all of a sudden, like the walls are closing on him. He gets to his feet, grabs his bag. 

_Going somewhere?_

“Can’t stay here,” Goro says roughly, unlocking the door and stepping into the hallway. “Don’t have the credits for another night.”

He surveys the room one last time, the mess of feathers, the tangled blankets, the large windows- and for one moment, one brief moment, he imagines his mother. Hands on her hips, mouth pursed as she surveyed the mess he had made in her absence - in the mess he had _become_ in her absence.

He closes the door behind him.

===

“Sleep comfortably, honey? You look awful tired." The woman at the desk says. The hearts in her eyes are gone today, replaced with glittering stars. Her hair is piled in a messy bun. She would be about his mother’s age, he thinks, if she was still-

“Yes thank you." Goro says, smiling tightly. He wires over the credits, unable to make eye contact for the rest of the transaction - He keeps his eyes on the muddy green of the carpet instead.

 _Feeling shy, **honey**? _J types as Goro steps out into the growing dusk, and Goro ignores him. He can hear it in his smooth baritone though, the ghost of his voice thrumming against his eardrum - and he releases a deep breath.

“Please don’t.” The cool air feels like relief in his lungs, and he draws a deep breath, savoring it. 

_Are you sure you’re alright?_

“No,” Goro sighs, “But we should get a move on. We need to start looking for a ripperdoc.”

_Opting to get the whole chip removed? The operation could be difficult depending on where the initial injection site was at. You could lose some vital functions if-_

“That’s of no consequence to me,” Goro says dismissively. He rolls his shoulders, trying to ignore the ache of sleeping on the hard concrete floor,”We need to get this over with now.”

 _I know a person,_ J says, text coming slow and hesitant, _I might be able to pull some strings and get you in as early as tomorrow. But are you sure-?_

From here he can see the glow of the Tokyo Sky Tree, still standing out after all these years in the neon jungle that the Tokyo skyline has become. He shoves his hands deep in his pockets, watching the flickering lights of the city.

“Are they trustworthy?” He asks, meandering down a side street, pulling open his map and scanning it for the nearest food kiosk. It’s a bit of a walk, so he puts his system on alert, and marks the location on his display.

 _They won’t work with ArkTech._ J says, after a beat _, but their talents lie more in cracking than…_

“-than medtechie work,” Goro finishes aloud, “Just. Humor me this; How many patients have they worked with?”

 _Humans?_ J says, _A few._

“So what you’re implying,” Goro says, stopping in his tracks, brain working overtime. He catches his breath, “What you’re implying is you’re sending me to a _mechanic_?!”

 _Er. Legally? Yes._ J says, _It’s a back alley practice, but she hasn’t lost a patient yet, and it’s on short notice-_

“Right. Okay!” Goro exclaims into the night, the hungry flip of his stomach spurring him back into action. He turns onto a main road, pulling his hood up over his head, “What else do I have to lose? Schedule me a damn appointment.”

_Are you sure? You really don’t seem so happy about this-_

“Of course I’m not happy-”

He is cut off, words dying in his throat, stopped short by a hand tight on his shoulder. He braces himself, wheeling around defensively. Why hadn't J said anything? Who was-

"Oh it _is_ you." The man says, teeth blindingly white, and he laughs almost self consciously. "I was hoping it was."

"Doctor?" Goro asks stupidly. He finds himself unable to move, heart rate slowing rather than ratcheting upwards. He blinks under the bright light of the streetlamp, staring in disbelief. 

_Run_ , J's message insists, but he remains stock still.

Doctor Takuto Maruki shrugs helplessly at him, shoving his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. His hair is a frizzy mess in the humid rain, and he still has his white lab jacket haphazardly hanging out of his shoulder bag. Behind him hovers a pale, polygonal humanoid figure. Its shoulders are straight back, and its long, elegant limbs poised. 

"I'm glad to see you're alright." Dr. Maruki says, releasing his heavy hand from Goro's shoulder and patting him lightly. Goro shrinks away from the casual touch, blood going ice cold.

 _I'm sorry, I didn't see him coming,_ J says, _I can't get a read on him at all. It's like..._

Like he doesn't exist. 

Goro had always known Dr. Maruki would be a nuisance. An obstacle.

That he was dangerous.

The android tilts her head to the side, and Goro thinks if she had a face she would probably be smiling.

"Akechi." She says, her voice level and pleasant. She bows her blank white face towards the ground in acknowledgment, and clutches at the briefcase in her hand, mechanical joints whirring as she steps up behind Maruki.

"Kasumi." Goro says tersely, fingers itching for the grip of his stun knuckles. They are still in his bag, but maybe if he more quickly enough - 

"Still lovely, isn't she?" Maruki says, patting the android gently on the head. "Truly my greatest achievement in the sciences." His face contorts into a smile that makes Goro's hair stand on edge. "But she's just the beginning, aren't you my dear?"

"Just the beginning." Kasumi parrots.

"Are you hungry at all? There’s a quaint little diner just around the corner from here." Maruki continues conversationally, turning back to Goro.

"What do you want?" Goro asks, crossing his arms defensively. 

Maruki smiles.

"I was hoping you would ask." He says, eyes crinkling with a smile, 'Why don't you join me for a cup of coffee?"

"No thank you." Goro says, forcing a smile in return that comes too naturally to his face.

"I hardly think you're in a position to refuse, Goro." Maruki says, his smile growing wider. He laughs and leans in conspiratorially, throwing his arm around Goro’s shoulders. It’s a simple gesture, casual and friendly. The tight grip on his shoulder, steering him in a direction he had no intention of going, belies the doctor’s true intentions.

“Where are we going?” Goro spits, struggling to free himself. Panic sets itself in between his ribs, clawing and tight. He thrashes, and Maruki just rolls his eyes.

“It’s just coffee Goro." he sighs, pushing him along down the street. "I’ll even pay.”

 _Go along with it,_ J types to his dismay, _I’ll keep an eye on things from here_

Where is _here_ , Goro wants to say, words bitter and heavy on his silent tongue. He huffs, feet dragging as Maruki ushers him on.

Goro finds himself guided briskly down the main thoroughfare, past bright blinking neons, and dark alleyways. Their walk brings them a dimly lit 24-hour diner, Kasumi opening the door for the two of them politely, and hovering silently behind the two as they navigate the tight walkway of the restaurant. 

“Why don’t you take a seat and we can discuss why I want to help you," Maruki says lightly, gesturing to a booth tucked in the back of the restaurant. It’s a futile move, Goro thinks, shuffling into the booth - the diner is empty save for the staff. Maruki waves down a waitress, a boxy android of silver chrome, and puts in an order of two black coffees, before settling in across from him. Kasumi situates herself next to the counter, saying something unintelligible to the waitress.

If Goro tries to run, she will catch him, he’s sure.

"I don't need your help." Goro says, wrinkling his nose. "Doctor, I appreciate the sentiment, but you shouldn't waste your time being simperingly sweet - You might as well get to the point.” 

"The point hmm?" Maruki says, leaning on one hand. He smiles, and it sends chills down Goro's spine. "And what, Mr. Akechi, do you suppose the point is?"

"You're after something, clearly." Goro says, surveying the man across from him. "After all, why risk contact with _Black Mask_ behind Shido’s back? You're clearly out of your jurisdiction."

"Am I now?" Maruki laughs. "L0k-1 is as much my business as the company head's I assure you."

"Why?" Goro snorts. "Because R&D doesn't have enough on its plate? I doubt you’re stupid enough to mistake Doctor Isshiki's work as your own. So what’s your angle? To reverse engineer it and use it for your own means?"

"You constructed your own systems at a young age." Maruki says. "You're a valuable asset as it is. The Robin Hood protocol was clever, but not nearly clever enough. Do you really think you'll be able to disengage from L0k-1 without help? That system will tear you apart from the inside before you even begin to comprehend its inner workings."

"I'm not trying to discover its inner workings." Goro spits. "I'm trying to get rid of it."

Maruki hums, drumming his fingers against the table, and shakes his head remorsefully.

"Rid of it? Goro, you're not looking at the big picture. Think of the changes we could make to Neo-Shibuya, to the WORLD. We could make a real difference together, you and I. Every day thousands suffer due to the structure of our society. What if we could free them from that suffering? What if L0k-1 could lessen that burden? Think of the work we could do if we could harness that power. No more ArkTech, no more corporates. No more Shido."

"I think you are willfully forgetting - L0k-1 is a fucking weapon. A fundamentally unstable one at that. What I have on my hands is a god damn ticking time bomb, and you want me to - what? Help you to mass produce something that has actively ruined my life? You have a twisted sense of humor, doctor."

"The good of the many outweighs the few." Maruki says, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Fuck you." Goro says. "F-"

Tension ripples up the muscles of his neck, and he gasps, reaching to grip the edge of the table, breathing becoming labored. Pain prickles his senses, crawling along his temple, burning in his eyes.

It is devastatingly familiar.

It is suddenly hard to breathe.

“I think you’re the one misunderstanding." Maruki says, eyes glinting in the neons. He laughs humorlessly, and tilts Goro’s chin up to look him in the eyes.“ArkTech's greatest weapon… is you. Not L0k-1." 

He smiles, and it is predatory. Assessing. Goro doesn't know how he'd never seen it before. How he'd never realized. "Think of the good I could do with L0k-1 and its host on my side. We could take down ArkTech together, use their technology for good- "

"Shut up." Goro says quietly, voice cracking. His hands are shaking, mind whirling. Masayoshi Shido's pawn. His weapon. His gun.

His _son_.

His vision blurs red, and he clutches at his face in panic.

"You still don't get it huh." Maruki shakes his head. He takes a sip from his mug and laughs lightly. "You can’t deny who you are forever."

“Masayoshi Shido means _nothing_ to me.” Goro growls. 

“And likewise he is of no consequence to me, Goro.” Maruki shrugs innocently. "Think of this as a matter of...personal security. I offer you protection, I get exclusive access to our little...friend. Because what’s the alternative, kid? You get picked up by a booster gang? You join the bot insurgency and go underground with scum like _Joker_? I’m trying to help you.”

“I. Don’t. Need. Your. Help. " Goro says through his teeth.

“Don’t be too certain,” Maruki says, “Let me send you my contact info, just in case you happen to change your mind, okay?”

Goro grimaces, watching in dismay as the doctor’s name flashes in the upper right hand corner and is auto accepted. An apple icon bounces merrily across his screen, and his message log pops open. He desperately tries to close it, straining with the effort.

“How did you do that?” Goro asks, between labored gasps.

“It’s a neat trick isn’t it?” Maruki laughs, “Oh dear, you have some quite interesting items in your contact history don’t you?”

“Stop.”

“I -” the doctor begins then stops short, smile dropping from his face.The apple glitches spastically before suddenly disappearing entirely, “God damn-”

“Is everything alright, Doctor Maruki?” Kasumi asks, voice a perfect copy of light concern. Her spindly feet carry her to his side, where she hovers almost anxiously, robotic fingers fidgeting.

“Ah yes, no need to worry.” He says, waving his hand dismissively. He takes off his glasses and sighs. “Just a data breach back at the lab that I need to see to. Ah well. Perhaps another time, Goro.” He says, seeming distracted.

He shrugs on his jacket and gets to his feet.

"Next time we meet, perhaps you'll be ready to accept my offer." He says, patting Goro's shoulder as he curls over the table in pain, vision blurring in and out of focus. "Until then...stay safe, won’t you Goro?"

“Until next time, Akechi." Kasumi says, inclining her featureless head towards him yet again.

Goro waits until he hears the door to the diner before letting out the wretched whine clawing at his throat. 

The room is spinning violently, and Goro stumbles to his feet, lurching towards the nearest trash can, vision flicking in and out. 

No no no this was supposed to be over-

 _Breathe,_ J says, _Breathe. It's okay. I'm here_

Which is objectively untrue. Because Goro is here in an empty diner, vomiting up coffee, alone. He shivers. Closes his eyes, but the blinking display only follows him. He retches into the trash can, emptying his stomach of the entirety of its contents.

"I barely even know you." Goro says, wiping the back of his sleeve across his mouth. His voice is scratchy and raw, and he chokes on it.

And it's true. He's up against the biggest tech corp currently on the market, the biggest political party on the ticket. And the only person he has on his side is a person he doesn't even know.

 _We're stuck with each other_. J says simply. 

Goro snorts, blinking out the window into the murky dark of the polluted night sky.

_( **You need my help** , J had said, all those nights ago, words flickering across the screen of Goro's datapad._

_"What are you getting out of this?" He had asked, having had his fair share of under negotiated contracts._

_**Emancipation.** )_

"Unfortunately." Goro says, closing his eyes. Another untruth. If not for J… would anyone really know he had ever lived? The red at the edges of his vision has retreated. The clear blue tint of his ocular implant soothing him.

It seems to have passed.

But something needs to change. 

_Now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 


	3. Subject Not Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Art this chapter is thanks to the wonderful wyllora!!](https://twitter.com/wyllora/status/1352667481832382464?s=20) Please give her a follow!!!!
> 
> This chapter...guys this chapter was so hard to write. This was the last one done somehow and oh my god.

Blood splatters the ground, and Goro bites his lip, straining to contain the scream crawling its way up his throat. His arm stings with pain, and he winces, trying to keep his hand steady as his companion holds it flush to the chair, clipped down with belts.

Alibaba is an odd one. She hums to herself as she takes his hand in hers, tracing the vein of his hand to the gaping wound two and a half inches above his elbow. 

"You had such neat scarring." She says conversationally, goggles flashing a whirlwind of colors. "The one you'll get from this procedure is not going to be nearly as pretty."

“Hmm." Goro says, gripping the leather of his chair tightly. “How much longer?” A deep ache runs up his arm and she snorts when he flexes his fingers in discomfort.

"Don’t be impatient, I’m almost done." She says, scalpel in her other hand as she hovers over the open wound. "Like I said, it's a quick procedure. I'm not the best ripperdoc on this side of Tokyo for nothing."

"In Yongen you mean." Goro bites out, watching her tweezers disappear into his arm. He glances away, at the walls of the loft, and grit his teeth. He wasn't unused to ripperdoc procedures, or even modding - but this was the first time he'd sought one off the web. Illegally. “The best ripperdoc on this side of Tokyo would have better anesthetic."

She ignores him, long hair falling in her face. Even by streetkid standards, Alibaba is peculiar - under 5ft tall, and can't be a day over nineteen. Her bright green jumpsuit is an eyesore, and just looking at it is gives him eye strain. 

If he’d known this was the kind of help J was getting him, he would have backed out long ago. It's too late for that, however, as she is currently prodding the inside of his arm.

"Aha!" She says. "Got it!"

Goro's vision shudders and he presses his free hand against his head, screwing his eyes up against the pain. He feels cold all over, his muscles ache - and just as suddenly as it started, it's over.

He blinks back into the bright light of the ripperdoc’s lamp, eyes roving over the plastic folding table and paper towel damp with his blood. His display is quiet.

He is free.

She grins at him maniacally, presenting her find to him. Bloody and small, a computer chip is clenched in her tweezers. Goro looks at it and takes a deep breath.

It’s so small for something that had invariably made his life a living hell for the last five years.

"Are you sure about this?" The girl, Alibaba asks. "L0k-1 is... well. _Joker_ mentioned it in the debrief. I’ve already seen the files list and. Hoo boy. This is the point of no return, buddy - I can't guarantee you can get it back once I’ve cracked it.”

Joker, huh?

"I'm sure." Goro says, watching her drop the chip in a small plastic bag before she pulls out some gauze, needle, and thread. He stares up at the ceiling, at the high beams of the attic as she stitches him back up, and wraps his arm.

"I'll get back to you with the data later." She affirms, patting his arm hard enough he winces. "You can wire me the credits now, please, and thank you."

It’s a large sum, Goro thinks remorsefully, for someone who no longer has a job or roof over his head. All his past procedures had been covered by company insurance. Without a valid ID number, no legitimate doctor will ever see him again.

Now that he's left - now that L0k-1 is gone... It's like the floor has fallen out from beneath him.

For the first time in his life, anything is possible.

"Get on out of here." Alibaba says, pushing her goggles up. She has a young face, which looks all the more childish when she grins at him. "I'll call you for follow-up sometime next week yeah?"

"Right." Goro says, in a daze. He unbuckles his arm, display flickering weakly. It's to be expected, with the sudden change in cognition and firmware, but he finds it disconcerting all the same.

He pauses, watching the small girl settling into a plush chair before her computer screens, bright turquoise already splashing across her face.

“There’s. Something else. That might help.” Goro says hesitantly. He reaches into his bag, and tries not to flinch when his fingers find cold metal. He almost can’t bare to look at it, but does all the same - the familiar spiraled horns, the bright red glass in the visor. L0k-1’s Black Mask looks back at him, and he swallows, placing it gently down on the worktable. 

“What’s this?” Alibaba asks, spinning in her high backed chair to look at it. She cranes her head inquisitively, eyes zeroing in on the intricate design.

“An accessory of sorts,” Goro says shortly, already turning away, “to L0k-1.”

“The black mask,” she says thoughtfully. He can hear the roll of wheels across the ground behind him as she scoots her chair in for a closer look. 

He takes that as his cue to leave.

He traipses down the stairs, past the stern-looking proprietor of the old world restaurant, who is brewing coffee, and out into the street, where he gulps in a deep breath of the acrid air, chest tight.

They can't find him anymore, he realizes.

===

Freedom tastes like a greasy burger and fries, and the most decadent milkshake he’s ever had in his life. He sits on the roof of an old apartment building, feet dangling precariously over the side, stomach full, and watches the swathes of people crowding the streets. He is unseen in the buzz and hum of foot traffic. Goro Akechi no longer exists and he’s never felt so alive.

 _What now?_ J asks as Goro takes another bite into his burger, pickle juice trickling down his chin. He pays both no mind, diving in again to the taste of the manufactured meat, the artificial flavor bursting in his mouth. He downs it all with a swig of his chocolate milkshake, and flops onto his back, closing his eyes against the smoggy Neo Shibuya skyline.

Freedom, somehow is not as freeing as he had expected. It is a heavy weight on his chest, lungs so tight he feels like he can’t breathe.

J’s question “what now”, hangs suspended in limbo. In the sea of his tumultuous thoughts. The answer is caught somewhere in his throat. 

I’m not sure, he wants to say. I’ve never had the chance to choose before. Freedom had been the only thing he’d wanted, strived for. And now that he has it, he doesn’t know what to do with it. Revenge? A fresh start? He clenches his hands to still their shaking. 

_Is this it?_ J asks, _the great Goro Akechi retires and gorges himself on McDonald’s?_

"Big Bang Burger." Goro mutters. "Owned by the Okumura's."

 _Right,_ J writes, _so sorry your highness. I forgot that that's the pressing matter at hand, and definitely not your survival._

"Oh shut up." Goro sighs. He tosses the rest of his fries to a nearby group of birds, watching them swarm and bicker over the meager offerings. "I don't… know what comes next."

Before him sprawls an eternity of choices, an array of paths. For the first time in his life, his opinion matters. The fact that ArkTech had deprived him of this so long-

He imagines the pop and squish of Masayoshi Shido’s jugular beneath this hands, the white of his eyes as he presses the gun to his jaw -

 _Well to start_ , J says, interrupting Goro’s murky thoughts, _we should make you a new identity, just for the streets. We can’t get you a new SIN at this point, but it’s worth changing your network keys and updating your system biometrics. We can get to your DNA scans and forge some documents sometime in the long-run._

“The long-run huh?” Goro snorts. "What use do you have for me now? Your little ripperdoc has L0k-1, what’s the use of keeping me around any longer, _Joker_?”

 _Oh_ , is all Joker says. 

“You’re what, some kind of wanna be revolutionary? A modern day Robin Hood?” Goro asks. He’d be staring at the sky, if not for the Neo Shibuya smog, thick and dark. He imagines it a vibrant blue, with fluffy white clouds - the sort of thing he had seen in picture books as a child.

 _I’m an idealist_. Joker writes. _Those in power don’t like people who think,_ _that’s all._

“I don’t really care who you are." Goro sighs. He scans his HUD, and systems info. “I don’t have a SIN by the way. Never have either, so that’s something you don’t have to worry about. Goro Akechi has been off the books since birth. A weapon, not a person. I’m sure you heard what the doctor said.”

 _That’s not true_. Joker says. _You live, you think, you feel - aren’t those the things that make one human? Maruki was just trying to get into your head. You are not a weapon, not to me._

Goro wonders if that’s true In a world with every movement watched, every breath owned… is anyone truly human anymore? 

It’s of no consequence. It’s not his fight. The only thing he wants is rest. Shido pleading for his own life. Another milkshake. 

He shakes his head.

“Then what am I to you?" Goro says snidely, mouth quirking into a wry smile. “A _friend_?”

_A partner._

For once, Goro is stunned into silence.

 _I do need you._ Joker continues. _You do have a place in all of this, if you want one, but it’s not something I ask of you lightly._

“In your rebellion? Your search for...what? Justice?” Goro laughs aloud. “And you want fucking Black Mask on your side, knowing all that I’ve done?”

 _No._ Joker says _. I want Goro Akechi. I want someone at my side who I trust. Someone who understands as well as I do the importance of autonomy, of liberation._

“Your sentimental bullshit doesn’t sway me.”

_Fine. I want someone to help me destroy ArkTech from the inside out._

This gives Goro pause. He thinks of his father, looming over the form of a small child, pressing a heavy hand to his shoulder. Of the tone of his voice, cold and detached.

_(“It seems your mother was anticipating your arrival, Goro.” He says, as they look up the tall side of the skyscraper, to the body dangling listlessly from the balcony, neck twisted at an angle that makes Goro sick. He hasn’t seen his mother in nearly six months. He had been eagerly anticipating this trip - had worked his hardest in the shooting range, in the obstacle courses._

_“Perhaps you will have to remain in our care after all,” Masayoshi Shido says, looking at the face of his watch with disinterest, “What a pity.”_

_“Mama?” He whispers. The screams won’t come, and neither too will the tears. They won’t come until weeks later, when he’s put under the lazer, and he will shout and wail for his mother until they have to put him under.)_

_I won’t push,_ Joker says _, This is something you need to decide on your own._

“ArkTech,” Goro says slowly, “Take them down, how?”

 _Dismantle their power, ruin their reputations, bring their actions to light,_ Joker responds, _Bring justice to those they have wronged._

“Okay,” 

_Okay?_

“Okay,” Goro repeats, “Let’s take down ArTtech.” He sits up so quickly that the world briefly spins out of focus, but he starts rifling through his contacts quickly.

 _What? Really?_ Joker writes _, I thought you were going to-_

“On one condition,” Goro continues, his heart racing. He imagines Shido’s face when his world crumbles out from beneath him. He finally alights on the contact he’d been looking for. “We do this on my terms.”

 _That’s asking for a lot,_ Joker says _, but sure, I’ll bite._

“We have one major threat going forward,” Goro says, “Bigger maybe even then Masayoshi Shido. It’s just a stepping stone, but if we can infiltrate the labs-”

 _I’m in,_ Joker says _, ArkTech’s R &D department is the foundation of the company. If we want to shake the whole house down, we’ve got to start there. But we’re going to need a plan._

“No,” Goro says, smiling as his text window pops into view, “What we need...is a bargaining chip.”

===

The sun is setting on the Shibuya scramble, and Goro pauses mid crosswalk, glancing up at the bright orange haze settling over the city. Here, the skyline is near nonexistent, the buildings built so closely over the years that they resemble a copse of inosculated trees - each building nearly indistinguishable from the next. The sun, barely visible through the sea of high rises, glows a deep red. In the upper left corner of his vision, his weather widget promises a warm balmy evening with a cool southerly wind. 

The people are packed tightly here, body pressed against body, and Goro almost enjoys the anonymity of it all, the world within the crowd. He could lose himself in this, in the rush of voices, the sea of heartbeats. 

“Goro!” A voice calls cheerily from the sidewalk, breaking Goro from his reverie. He resumes his slow stroll across the scramble, pausing again only when he reaches his destination. He smiles congenially - something he has perfected to the point he would consider it an art. 

“Doctor Maruki,” He says, nodding in acknowledgment. They fall into step beside one another, weaving in and out of the crowds, the older man pointing out new stores and locations of interest as they walk. Goro has been in the heart of Neo Shibuya many times in recent days, but says nothing. He nods politely at each recommendation and even waits as Maruki selects himself a boxed apple juice from a side street vending machine. 

“I’m sorry to make you wait,” Maruki says sheepishly, leading Goro along the backstreets and towards the corporate sector.

In all honesty, Goro doesn’t mind the wait. He has waited this long - a whole week of planning, of sleeping on park benches and in back alleys. He and Joker had walked this plan forward and back. Discussed the ins and outs. The deal was foolproof. Even Goro couldn’t fuck it up. 

“I don’t mind at all doctor,” he says, glancing at the people lining the streets. Gone are the flashy cybernetics and bright hairstyles - they have given way to sleek lines, perfectly pressed clothing. Ageless stern faces pass, almost indiscernible from one another.

“This is the place,” the doctor announces, with a sweeping gesture. Across the intersection ahead of them, ArkTtech’s R&D building towers over them. Forty-five stories high and ivory white, its long panels of clear glass spiral up into the sky. Tall, white arches protrude off of it, reminding Goro vaguely of a cathedral. Goro has never visited this branch - has spent most of his days in the headquarters, in the director’s personal labs, “Shall we head in?”

Maruki ushers him towards the front doors, flashing his badge at a security guard at the front door. The doors open with a soft hiss, and they step into the main lobby. 

“I’ll see if I can get us a conference room,” Maruki says, “Feel free to sit for a bit, I’ll be right back.”

Goro drinks in the room, the high ceilings, the minimalist design, the limited color palette - and for half a moment, feels a deep pang of homesickness. He settles onto a sete by the front door, watching as Maruki leans against the front desk, speaking animatedly to an unimpressed looking secretary. 

_The way he acts, you’d almost forget he’s the one calling the shots._ Joker writes. Goro can almost imagine his scathing tone, and snorts, but does not respond. Joker’s job today is to work as the eye in the sky. Goro’s job is to play nice and be the negotiator. 

He crosses his legs, surveying the room. It’s mostly empty for what should be a bustling building during a business day, he notices. There are less guards than expected - which strikes Goro as odd. He wonders if Shido’s distrust for Maruki goes so deep as to not staff the building with security. 

_Don’t worry._ Joker says, _We’re offering him something he can’t refuse._ _Maruki may be a bad egg, but he usually at least plays nice._

Goro fidgets, wondering how Joker knows so much about the doctor, but again, keeps his mouth closed. Across the lobby, Maruki makes eye contact with him and waves. Goro gives him a tight smile in return. 

“I got us a room on the 19th floor,” he says brightly, throwing an arm around Goro’s shoulder. Goro stiffens but does not shrug him off as he follows the doctor towards the back of the lobby to the elevators. Maruki presses the button, releasing Goro in order to lean casually against one of the doors.

“Are you sure this is the real deal?” Maruki asks, searching Goro’s eyes, “If what you’re saying is true - if you think L0k-1 is hiding more of Wakaba’s research-”

The door opens and Maruki stumbles through them clumsily, laughing, gripping the railing of the elevator. 

“Whoops,” He grins as Goro follows him in. Three of the four panelled walls of the elevator are made entirely of glass. From here he can see the street, the people walking by, the setting sun -, “Forgive me for talking business already, but what you’re offering is...truly fantastical.” 

“Yet I am living proof of it all,” Goro says evenly, growing dizzy as another elevator passes to their left, descending back down to the lobby, “L0k-1 and I are the last remnants of Wakaba Isshiki’s legacy. I thought your offer over seriously, and I want to exchange what I know, and L0k-1’s system files, for your help in taking action against Masayoshi Shido and exposing ArkTech’s malpractices.”

Maruki whistles lowly.

“That’s a tall order,” He says, drumming his fingers against the elevator wall, “Especially since these are not the terms I asked for.”

“I can’t offer you individual rights to L0k-1.” Goro says, “The patent is filed under Isshiki’s name, and at this time probably belongs to her estate. There’s nothing I can do to help you in a suit against ArkTech’s legal department.”

“Goro, we’re talking about taking down an entire corporate entity,” Maruki runs his fingers through his unruly hair and sighs, “This is already an under the table deal. Think of what I could _do_ with L0k-1 at my disposal.”

“If L0k-1 was the key, don’t you think I would have used it already?” Goro curls his fingers in frustration, but keeps his voice light. He can’t afford to show weakness now. 

The elevator chimes and the doors open. They step out into a long white hallway that reminds Goro sorely of the hospital wings of his youth. The floors are a pale linoleum, and it smells strongly of industrial strength sanitizer. He wrinkles his nose.

“No Goro,” Maruki sighs as they round a corner, “I don’t. I think you’re too much of a coward for that.”

“Excuse me?” Goro asks, stomach dropping. He can hear heavy footsteps behind him, and he turns on Maruki, ice shooting through his veins.

_Goro. You need to get out of there._

“You’re awfully polite today,” Maruki continues as if he hadn’t said anything. He stops in front of a nondescript white door. The golden plate next to it reads _OR-7._ “I hope you know I really appreciate that, all things considered.”

“All things considered?” Goro repeats, dropping his smile like a stone. He furrows his brows as Maruki laughs and claps a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from turning around. Goro scowls, attempting to shrug him off. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah, Goro. So young and naive.” He says fondly. Out of the corner of his eye, Goro can make out the barrel of a gun, pointed in his direction, “I sure hope you don’t mind company?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find us on twitter!  
> [cunningcapra](https://twitter.com/cunningcapra)  
> [glancenuggets](https://twitter.com/glancenuggets)  
> [wyllora](https://twitter.com/wyllora)  
> 


	4. Game Over

"Shit." Goro curses, trying to duck out of the way as armed guards flank their sides. Maruki chuckles, waving towards their escorts dismissively.

"Something you dislike about my entourage, Goro?" he asks, sounding amused. "Perhaps you were hoping to get the jump on me?"

"Fuck off." Goro hisses as one of the men grabs him by the arm, clipping his wrists together behind his back with a magnetic manacle. Another presses their gun into the small of his back and he stiffens at the contact. The key, a high-powered magnetic chip, is handed off to Maruki who fiddles with it, like a child with a shiny new toy. Goro will have to snatch it if he has any hope of escaping. "We had a deal."

"You must always read the fine print." Maruki pauses before a set of doors, separating a key card from his lanyard and swiping it against the data reader.

The door opens - and he snaps his fingers, bright fluorescent lights flickering on one by one and illuminating the room. It is large, an operating table pushed to one side, and a panel of bright screens humming to life against the far wall. Goro looks desperately for an exit but sees none. There are two doors, one behind him, which slams shut, just as one to the far left opens. Kasumi emerges, pulling on a pair of black, latex gloves.

"What are you planning to do?" Goro asks, thrashing wildly in his captor's hold. He tries to throw his elbows back, to wriggle free, buy time, _anything_ but is pushed roughly to his knees on the cold linoleum floor. Maruki shakes his head, towering over him, backlit by the static of many screens.

"I'm a little disappointed." Maruki says, flicking his wrist lazily, sending the screens scrolling through an array of images. "I thought L0k-1’s host would put up more of a fight."

He doesn't know, Goro realizes, dread settling as a knot in his throat. He doesn't know that L0k-1 is _gone_.

Kasumi walks stiffly to Maruki's side at the screens, tilting her head to him as he hands her the key to Goro's manacles. He gestures to the operating table, and she obliges, pushing the wheeled bed into the middle of the floor.

Goro feels sick. Revulsion churns in his stomach, and his head throbs with pressure. His hands are shaking, he realizes, watching as the android neatly arranges the bed, unclasping belts that will soon tether him down.

_(It's all too familiar. A dark room, a blazing light overhead, Shido's piercing orange eyes looking down at him as he sobbed and begged for his mother - "Sedate him." He had said.)_

"Honestly you're much more gullible than I thought you would be. No wonder you fell to your father's whims so easily. All it takes is a kind word. A promise of safety, of freedom. Any abandoned child would play right into their open palm."

Maruki kneels before him, jerking Goro's head up roughly by the chin, and raising an eyebrow.

"Isn't that right, _Joker_?"

“Joker?” Goro repeats, stomach sinking.

“That night in the diner, the data breach that happened in the lab - I would recognize that signal anywhere. Did you finally decide it was time to play games with the big boys? I fear you’re far too late.”

There is silence. No streams of text. No message notifications.

Goro is finally, truly _alone_.

He feels like he's falling, tumbling through open-air with no net to catch him. He digs his fingers into the cracks of the cheap tiling, relishing the burn. 

He has been abandoned before. He has been alone before. Life will go on.

It always has before. 

He is strong. He is alive. He still has time to fight. He will fight until his dying breath.

Joker...or no Joker.

“Doctor, I need your authorization to begin the warm up procedure." Kasumi intones, jolting Goro from his thoughts. She punches something into the console, blank face turning towards them with a whirr, seemingly unaffected by the scene happening before her.

"Ah, well." Maruki sighs, getting to his feet. He rolls his shoulders and turns back to the screens, brandishing his lanyard lazily towards the android. "I suppose you really were just a weapon all along, Goro. It's a pity. You had so much potential. Unfortunately, L0k-1 takes precedence at this point in time."

"What are you going to do?" Goro chokes out. He looks up at the screens, following the doctor's line of sight. There are formulas, strings of code far more complex than any Goro has ever seen. Images filter by, vivisections, brain scans, patient files -

“Ah, the Yoshizawa’s." Maruki says with a low whistle. He gestures to the screen nonchalantly and the stream of images freezes. There’s a photograph of two young girls, dark red hair spilling over their shoulders, accompanied by a simple obituary article. “Horrible accident. Lost both daughters - twins - in one night. They brought one to me but well. Not all lives can be saved. Right, Kasumi?”

The android falters. She stalls next to the console, hand pressed to the screen, head tilted curiously to the side.

“...incorrect.” The android says. Goro can hear the gears whirring even from where he is collapsed on the floor. “Doctor, this information is incorrect.”

“Only tangentially." Maruki says dismissively. “Anyways, _Goro_ -”

“One girl survived.” The android continues, talking over him. “She was released into your care.”

“She died under my scalpel. Her heart stopped beating on my operation table. It was such a tragedy, someone so young…”

“She was fifteen." She says haltingly. She traces the outline of one of the girls, dark red hair, wide eyes. “She was fifteen and I...and she…they were heading back from practice, and it was raining so hard and I was frustrated because Kasumi was...”

“What are you talking about?” Goro whips his head around to look at Maruki, teeth bared. “Doctor,” he says in a hiss, “w _hat is she talking about_.”

“I have no idea." Maruki says. He approaches Kasumi and raps on the backplate of her head patiently. “Hello? Everything okay there?”

The android shakes her head, hand dropping limply from the screen to her side. “My apologies, doctor. My... processes seem to have overheated.”

“No worries, my dear,” Maruki says placatingly, guiding her away from the console. “We’ll get you hooked up to a cooling unit as soon as the operation is finished, yes?”

“Yes, doctor.” Kasumi agrees, bowing her head and allowing him to tow her towards the operating table.

“Now,” Maruki says, turning back to Goro, and clapping his hands together, “you have nothing to fear, Goro. You’re familiar with the procedure, I’m sure?”

He gestures to one of the guards, who hauls Goro to his feet, steering him towards the table. Maruki raises an eyebrow in amusement and whirls around, disappearing behind a curtain. There is the sound of running water, and humming.

“No!” Goro desperately tries to dig his heels in, to imagine himself twenty, forty pounds heavier. His side meets metal roughly, and he is lifted off of his feet and up onto the table. For a moment, he misses L0k-1. Misses the surge of power, the activation of the excellerants. He wants to render these assholes limb from limb, wants to scream and shout. But his arms feel weak, and his throat, dry. In his panic, his eyes flicker up to the blinding light over head, and suddenly he can’t see straight.

“Joker..?” he tries, quietly, more sob than question. 

_(He remembers the optic surgery, how he had seen himself from outside his own body, had felt disconnected and afraid. Remembers the cold knife at his arm, the tingle that had spread through his body, L0k-1 blinking into existence within his own head space. Remembers waking up from operation after his subdermal armor implant, sick and exhausted-_

_He had spent his childhood, staring up at the harsh cold theater lights, the cold press of the operating table on his back, waiting for someone, anyone to help him-)_

No one is coming. The thought sinks like a stone into his stomach, he can feel the heavy weight of acceptance traveling through his limbs, down to his toes. 

He is going to die here, on this operating table, he realizes.

He tries to jerk away, unable to breathe. He needs to get out. He hasn’t seen enough, hasn’t done enough. Hasn’t _lived_ yet. His shoulders shake violently, and he tries to sit up, but is stalled by a cold, robotic hand.

“Stay still please.” Kasumi says, steadying him with the strong pressure of her hand on his chest. She quirks her head at him as he stares up at her blank white face, and he trembles in fear.

“Please don’t do this,” Goro whispers. 

“I must follow the doctor’s orders,” she says gently, pressing him flat against the table. She pats his head awkwardly and leans down to grab one of the thin leather straps that he knows will seal his fate forever.

“Kasumi.” He tries again, mind running a thousand miles a minute. She pauses a second, but continues her administrations, reaching over him for the buckle. His eyes dart back over to the screen and back. He swallows. 

“Miss...Yoshizawa?”

She stops. Her hands have stilled, just before his breastbone, both sides of the strap held in her two hands.

“Miss Yoshizawa,” he repeats, pushing himself up on his elbows, and searching her featureless face.

She drops the buckle. 

Goro surges forward, diving towards her, and grabs the strap of Maruki’s lanyard in his teeth, pulling as hard as he can. There is a satisfying _snap_ as the elastic breaks free, and the android topples backwards in surprise, crashing to the ground.

“Kasumi?” The doctor calls from behind the curtain. 

Goro presses his back against the small table of medical supplies, hands desperately searching for the sharp press of a scalpel, of _anything_ useful. He comes away with what he thinks is a bonesaw, and he adjusts it clumsily in his two hands. 

_I’m here._ The text comes in a rush of relief and Goro nearly drops his weapon in his surprise. 

“Joker,” he whispers, name reverent on his tongue. He steadies his shaking hands, grounds himself, “Where on earth have you-?”

 _Head towards the elevator,_ Joker instructs _, I’ve got things under control._

Yeah. Right.

In any case, Goro’s not going to get _anywhere_ with his hands still literally tied. He’s useless like this. A walking, talking liability. 

He needs to make this easy on Joker.

“Hand over the key,” he growls, turning on the bot, who has yet to make another sound. Her head oscillates between the curtain and Goro’s wild expression in clear indecision. 

“Kasumi?” The doctor calls again. There is the sound of footsteps. “Is everything alright?”

“The key. _Please_.” Goro says around a mouthful of elastic. “I don’t know what you are - _who_ you are. But I can find out. If you just..”

“If I let you go.” The bot responds quietly. “I know.”

Kasumi gets to her feet. She towers over him, and roughly grabs him with one latex-gloved hand. 

“Doctor, your patient is trying to get away,” she says. Goro tries to shake her off, but the tight grip of her titanium alloy fingers is too much for him. 

Maruki laughs from behind the curtain, “It’s not like he can get anywhere without a keycard and two free hands.”

“Indeed.” Kasumi says, slipping her hands down to Goro’s wrists. The magnet hits the ground with a _clang_ and she continues, “In that case, we should work even faster to catch him, yes?”

“What-?”

Goro doesn’t stick around long. Doesn’t spare Kasumi another look, or wait to see the doctor’s reaction. He rips the lanyard out from between his teeth and brandishes his bonesaw in hand, ducking under the swing of nearing guards. The front door is probably still heavily guarded from the outside, so he rushes towards the door at the back of the room that Kasumi had first emerged from. He presses the doctor’s keycard against the reader, and exhales in relief when it unlocks for him.

It opens into a small hallway, leading out just around the corner of the operating theater's main entry. He can hear the heavy thud of boots approaching, can feel the vibrations through the ground, and he sprints forward, feet sliding against the slippery granite. 

The elevator, he recalls, skidding around another corner, locking eyes with his destination’s mirror like silver doors. He’s got to take the elevator down. Then Joker can help. The sound of footsteps nears, and he can tell they’re hot on his trail. A bullet whizzes past his ear and he slams his hand against the elevator call button in desperation but nothing happens.

He can just barely make out the silhouettes of guards approaching, in the reflection of the elevator doors and he realizes he doesn’t have time to turn around and find another path forward.

The fluorescent lights flicker overhead. Once. Twice. And the hallway is plunged into darkness.There are shouts from behind him. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he chants, growling and digging his nails into the narrow gap between the doors. His night vision kicks in automatically, but he’s so shaky he can barely see what he’s doing. He pries the doors open an inch, then another, heart beating erratically in his chest. He feels dizzy with panic, adrenaline burning his lungs. Finally, he manages to squeeze himself between the doors, gasping as they shut behind him. Shakily, he slides his back against the wall, feeling his way around with his feet - there is a spot a few feet down on the inside wall that he should be able to stand on.

He grits his teeth as he drops, palms pressed flush to the walls, and slowly exhales. His feet finally seeking purchase on the exposed beam along the side of the elevator shaft. But he can hear the rush of footsteps above and he scowls. Outside, neon lights flash, and he can see the taillights of cars in the road far below. 

"Joker, where's my nearest exit?" he asks, ripping his gaze from the glass and praying to anyone, anything, that Joker has the decency to respond.

 _50 feet down_ , Joker’s message reads. _You're going to have to drop._

"Fuck." Goro swears. He eases himself down to a crouch, gripping the beam with his bare hands and swinging his feet downwards. His wrists ache with the strain, and he struggles not to look out the windows of the elevator shaft, to the bright Neo Shibuya skyline. He’s not sure his impact bracers will absorb the fall, or that he’ll land on his feet at all. He won't relish his ankles snapping, he thinks, but it's better than dying at the hands of Ark.

 _Don't worry_. Joker says. _I'm with you._

Goro lets go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find us on twitter!  
> [cunningcapra](https://twitter.com/cunningcapra)  
> [glancenuggets](https://twitter.com/glancenuggets)  
> [wyllora](https://twitter.com/wyllora)  
> 


	5. Ghost in the Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Art this chapter is by the incredible glancenuggets!!!!](https://twitter.com/glancenuggets/status/1352667080076750850?s=20) Pls give them a follow!

He feels weightless, stomach surging up in the giddiness of the fall and then -

And then strong arms are wrapping around him, jolting him up and away from certain demise, and he opens his eyes in surprise to see a sleek black mask.

"What did I tell you?" Joker says, swinging Goro’s legs down on solid ground. "Everything worked out didn't it?"

Goro shoves him off the moment he gets his barings, raising an eyebrow as Joker preens under his gaze.

"It took you long enough to finally show yourself." Goro finally snaps. "Did it really take risking my own neck for you to step in?"

"I had other business to attend to." Joker says, visor blinking into a taunting grin. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans back to look at him. "Sorry to keep you waiting, honey."

"Shut up." Goro says, brushing him off. He doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want to deal with this. "I preferred you when you were silent."

Joker has the audacity to laugh, head thrown back and hood following suit to reveal a mess of black curls.

"I'll keep that in mind, Goro." He says, too fondly for Goro's comfort.

It’s strange, seeing Joker in the flesh. He’s tall, and there’s an air of confidence to each movement he makes. The screen of his black mask curls a playful smile in his direction and Goro glances away quickly, glancing around the elevator shaft, pushing back the buzz of interest crawling through his brain.

From here, he can make out the shouts of people far up above, a short beam of light searching from one of the upper floors.

"How are we getting out of here? We're still at least 15 stories up." Goro asks dubiously. “I can’t imagine Doctor Maruki will let us simply _walk_ out the front doors.”

"I have my ways." Joker says archly. He gestures to the elevator at his feet, an open hatch just barely visible in the refracted light of the city outside. “After you?”

Goro drops into a crouch, swinging down through the open compartment into a darkened elevator. The doors have been pried open, held ajar by a thick horizontal bar.

“Where are we?” He asks, feeling the elevator shudder as Joker lands on his feet beside him.

“The defect ward.” Joker says breezily. “Sorry, I was in a rush and cut all electricity. We have about half an hour before someone fishes the manual override key out of the toilet tank on the 3rd floor, so we better hurry.”

“The defect ward?” Goro asks. “I wasn’t aware ArkTech had a defect ward.”

“It doesn't." Joker pulls an auto handgun from his belt. He tosses it to Goro, who immediately relishes in the familiar weight of the weapon in his grip. “But Maruki does.”

“You’re not carrying?” Goro asks, examining the pistol’s magazine. There are 13 rounds of ammunition in the chamber, and the frame snaps back together with a satisfying click. The engraving on the barrel is unfamiliar to him, a strange electric green stamp of a grinning cat that glows in the low light. If it’s corporate, it’s not from one he recognizes. 

“No need to." Joker waves his hand dismissively. 

Goro raises an eyebrow and switches the safety off, with a satisfying click. “Whatever you say, hotshot.” 

J laughs and Goro relishes in the sound. Something squeezes tight in Goro’s chest. Something old and dormant. It’s been so long, he realizes. Since he’d had someone at his side. Someone he could...

Someone he could trust.

He follows Joker to the emergency stair access, watching as he neatly picks the lock. Through the small window in the door, Goro can see nothing but darkness, an impenetrable dark that even Goro’s night vision refuses to parse. It stutters over the shadows, before turning off completely, and Goro sighs in annoyance.

“After you." J says smugly, swinging the door open with a flourish. Goro peers down into the darkness and turns to Joker with a weak smile.

“Really, after you." Goro says. Joker laughs, but doesn’t argue, holding the door open behind him, just long enough for Goro to slip into the stairwell. 

Goro can barely make out his own two feet in the dark, and follows slowly after Joker’s stuttering steps. This close he can smell his cologne, a deep rich coffee scent that makes Goro’s cheeks flush.

The ground rumbles and Goro nearly loses his footing. Around them, the hallways jolt, and a loud noise rises through the floors. There is a crash of something falling below them in the stairwell and Goro presses a hand against the handrail to steady himself, knocking his nose into the back of Joker’s helmet.

“Ah that would probably be the backup generator." Joker says smugly. “I’ve got my best man on the job.”

“What the fuck?” He manages to force out, heart racing. He rubs his nose, turning to Joker caustically. “You couldn’t have warned-”

Beyond Joker, down the dark, shadowed stairs, a light blinks. On. Off. It glows in the deep shadows, slowly inching towards them. It is accompanied by the sound of metal scraping on metal.

The light blinks again, and Goro recoils, as the source shambles into view, in a slice of light thrown from the top of the stairs.

“When you say...defect ward..." Goro begins, swallowing thickly. Joker follows his gaze.

“Ah." Joker says flatly, the lights of his display dimming and flickering. “They’re here.”

The pale blue light in the drooping eye socket of a humanoid android blinks again. Its head twitches back and forth, joints snapping as its body drags across the tile. Its nails scrape against the plated floor as it pulls itself forward on its hands, chest sliding slowly across the ground with a dull _thud, thud, thud._ Goro’s audio receptors buzz with static on its approach. Something is interfering with his systems.

He sucks in a deep breath and cocks his gun. There is a shuffling sound from the landing below. Another figure slithers into view. 

“What are they?” Goro whispers in barely disguised horror. He glances down the sight of his gun for a better look, and twists his mouth in disgust at what he sees. The humanoid face of the android is peeling off in a mass of pale, sagging yellowing skin that makes his stomach turn. It’s mouth twists, revealing a row of broken titanium teeth. Its whirring fans work into overdrive as it spots them, dragging itself up another step with labored breaths. 

There is a pole protruding out of its back, as if it had been run through during another encounter.

Goro thinks he might be sick.

Joker stiffly presses his hand to the barrel of Goro’s gun, pushing it down, breaking his line of sight.

“Not here." He murmurs, jerking his head towards the door on the floor closest to them. “Follow closely ok?”

He steps sideways, fumbling with the doorknob, rattling it loudly when it doesn’t open on the first try. He bangs his fist on the window in frustration, swearing, and Goro’s heart nearly stops when a sliver of light blinks back at them through the glass.

On the steps below, _the creature’s_ glowing eyes illuminate the darkness. It pulls itself up closer, reaching one crooked, decaying arm towards them. It knots its fingers around Joker’s ankle, and pulls, knocking him down. 

“For the love of-!” Joker begins, trying to leverage himself up by the railing. He kicks at the creature’s face and tries to dislodge himself.

It groansthrough heavy static, whatever hardware left in its chest cavity warped by the iron rod piercing it’s innards. Its voicebox crackles with disuse as it bares its sharp teeth.

Goro grabs Joker under the arms, quickly shuffling him backwards, but the creature holds tight. The silver of its interior frame glints in the half light of the staircase, the exposed metal poking sharply through its finger joints. Joker stifles a shout, pressing a hand over the casing of his helmet, and thrashing wildly. 

“I swear to god,” Goro says, dropping Joker unceremoniously. He pulls his gun out, and lines up the shot. Joker makes a sound of protest, just barely keeping the creature off of himself with one foot pressed to its deformed face, “Now is not the time for your petty theatrics.” 

He pulls the trigger.

The bullet rushes through the still air, and pierces the creature in the shoulder, in the junction between the neck and collarbone. With one final kick, Joker’s left boot flies off, and smacks the creature square in the forehead. It releases him, reeling backwards with a hollow shriek, a sound that rises steadily in volume and pitch. The creature on the landing below whirls on them, jaw snapping in and out of place.

“Fuck. Upstairs." Goro says, quickly pulling Joker into a standing position. “Come on.”

There is more shuffling from the floors below. The door Joker had been attempting to open rattles on its hinges, and Goro stiffens, tugging Joker’s arm again.

“You shouldn’t have shot it,” Joker rasps, as they climb back up the stairs. Goro pushes him gently in the middle of his back. He doesn’t have time for Joker’s laissez-faire attitude right now. 

“I just saved your life,” Goro says shortly, pushing Joker back through the doorway to the previous floor. He shuts the door heavily behind them, and looks around for something to bar it with, “Besides, I can’t get out of here without you. I’m completely disconnected from the NET, and my OS seems to need a reboot. My maps can’t pinpoint my location at all-”

“The bots release an electromagnetic pulse." Joker says quietly, already heading down the hallway. His gait is uneven now that he’s down a shoe, “it’s short-range and tailored to be low voltage, so as long as we don’t get close, our hardware should be fine.” 

“How are you able to navigate then?” Goro hisses, looking between the door and the hall. “How do you-”

“Shhhh." Joker silences him with a flourish of one of his gloved hands. The movement is jerky and slow compared to his earlier catlike agility, and Goro wonders if he was injured in his earlier heroics. He averts his gaze, watching in his periphery as Joker pulls a grenade from his pocket, “Stay there.”

“What are you doing?” Goro demands, trying to grab onto one of Joker’s arms to drag him back. “Are you a complete imbecile? Why didn’t you throw one of those earlier?”

“Because you hadn’t provoked the horde earlier,” Joker shoots back over his shoulder, “ You couldn’t have just left well enough alone could you? Listen - don’t you hear?”

The previously silent hallway is abuzz with static. It hangs in the air in a low hum that sends chills down Goro’s spine. There is an emergency light, blinking on and off at the end of the long hall of offices, and Goro can just make out two figures - no. Three figures - shambling slowly towards them.

“I was trying to save you,” Goro retorts. He aims his gun for the end of the hall, “Would you rather I had let you die?”

“I can’t die,” Joker snorts, “I’m fucking invincible. Now lower your gun, and let me handle this.”

Goro does not in fact lower his gun. As Joker slinks down the corridor, he holds it aloft. He knows he will not hesitate to shoot, even at his companion’s objection. Not if Joker’s life is in danger.

Joker gives a low whistle, almost electronic in nature. It sounds distorted in the echoing hall, intertwined with the humming buzz of the machines. The figures turn towards Joker, take lurching steps towards him, and Goro tightens his grip on his gun. 

“Sorry to interrupt you, gentleman,” Joker is saying breezily, holding his hands aloft, “I come in peace.”

The one closest snarls, revealing its thin, shark-like teeth and lunges forward. 

“What the fuck are you doing!” Goro calls after him in horror as Joker laughs and dodges backwards.

“My best,” Joker says demurely, turning to look at him behind his dark featureless helmet. He tosses the grenade over his shoulder lazily and shrugs.

Behind him, the ground sparks with electricity, and the creatures drop to their knees in silence. One of them bursts into flames, and the smell of smoke fills Goro’s nostrils. The other two jerk and spasm. Goro’s systems immediately jump back online, and he releases a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

“Oh dear, “ Joker says, a frown in his voice, “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Must have been an exposed wire. So sorry, bud.”

Goro approaches slowly, cautiously, watching the closest body twitch and convulse . The welted skin of its face is peeling off its metal frame, deep holes penetrating its cheeks. The one furthest away has no skin left at all, its steel skull a bright, oxidized blue, eyeballs bulging out of shallow sockets. Goro looks away. 

“Why do they look like that?” 

“Cyberpsychosis.” Joker crouches down to get a better look. “Or a derivative of it.”

“But Cyberpsychosis only happens to-”

“Humans, yes.” Joker says. He raps his fist against the ground impatiently, “Our good doctor’s been up to no good, _clearly_. The bots tear their own faces off in the confusion. They lose themselves, in the gears and wires. Unable to recognize themselves, unable to connect, the need for assimilation consumes them. The bloodlust comes later. And then, what do you know? Doctor Maruki has himself his own indentured army of automatons.”

“Are they dead?” Goro asks softly. 

“Just the one,” Joker confirms,“I miscalculated what kind of state they were in. Poor thing.” He shakes his head, with a low, mechanical laugh. He tries to stand, but his socked foot slides across the floor, nearly sending him careening back down to the linoleum. Without thinking,Goro reaches out and grabs him by the elbow, steadying him.

“Would you look at that,” Joker says, pulling away from Goro’s touch, “I’m already falling for you.”

“Very funny.” Goro crosses his arms, fingers tingling from the brief contact, “What now? Trying to head back downstairs seems like a bad move.” 

Joker leans down, shucking off his other boot and tossing it across the hall, “Next we try to rendezvous with my associate and find the evacuation kit for this level.”

“Yeah and where would that be,” Goro snorts, “We all know no one’s enforced building safety codes in this city in a good fifty years.” 

“There’s a lab _and_ a conference room on this floor.” Joker says, “Both are places where the unexpendable members of the company meet, so are the most likely candidates for an escape route... I say we cut our losses and split up - whoever finds the evacuation kit stays put, and we’ll meet at that point. I’ll give us fifteen, maybe twenty minutes.“

“And your...associate?” Goro asks skeptically, “How are we supposed to find him?”

“He’ll find us, Mona has a knack for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Great.” Goro mutters. He doesn’t know what to think of Joker’s involvement with a third party, but he casts those concerns away for the time being. He puts his gun in its holster, clicking the safety back on. “You check the conference room, I’ll head to the lab?”

“Sure,” Joker shrugs, pointing aimlessly down the hallway, “The lab should be down the hallway to the left. Please...if you see any more of those bots, just. Don’t engage.”

“Whatever you say,” Goro waves him off dismissively, already peering down the dark corridor towards the lab. The way looks clear to him, and once his night vision kicks in, he can make out the double doors and glass windows denoting the lab space. It looks eerie in the darkness, the walls closer together, the shadows longer and more frightening. 

He should have opted for the conference room he realizes, a low frustrated hum leaving his throat. He proceeds down the hallway slowly, keeping an eye out for any movement. However this wing is mercifully silent - quiet enough even that he can hear himself breathing, quick and heavy.

In other words, it’s deeply unsettling. Dread coils deep in Goro’s mind, and he swallows, trying to even out his breaths. Curiously, he glances through the murky windows into the lab, empty and barren save for standard equipment and an occasional datapad. On one of the operation tables, partitioned off in the middle of the room, he can make out what almost looks like a humanoid body, and he walks faster, nearing the lab room doors.

Better to get this over with quickly.

Hesitantly he pulls the door open, closing it gently behind himself so as not to make too much noise. 

The far wall is made up entirely of windows, and Goro makes his way towards them, dodging around carts of scrap metal, skirting as close to the wall as possible. He pauses on his way past the table with the android. It is still, lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling, mouth agape. A pair of scissors is sticking out of its head, and its shoulder seems badly dislocated. Goro forces his eyes away, shimmying past the narrow space next to the table, and finally ducking past to the windows. 

By all accounts, next to the windows is the only logical place for an evacuation kit to be, Goro thinks, pushing aside heavy curtains and looking under tables. And yet the lab seems to be completely devoid of them. Sighing, he rests a moment, massaging his temple, allowing himself to breathe. In the darkness, the city lights illuminate the tabletops closest to him. A folder lies open, with a picture of two figures nestled beside a neatly inked set of blueprints. He reaches for it, curious, and nearly drops the folder when his eyes make sense of what he’s seeing. Clean, geometric shapes mark the page, tiny detailed notes explaining the function of each joint, each accessory. Yoshizawa schematics, the page reads. Prototype model.

The picture attached, is of two teenage girls. He recognizes them from the slide show in Maruki’s operating theatre. The twins are smiling at each other broadly. Mouth dry, Goro flips to through the next pages, stomach flipping. Two autopsy reports. A variety of NDA. Months of laboratory reports-

There is a loud noise from above, and Goro drops the folder with a start. He glances around the room, taking stock of everything, when he hears the rattling of metal. He looks upwards, wordlessly, as the metal grate on the air vent falls to the ground with a crash.

Goro lunges for the closest, heaviest thing he can find, hefting a microscope stand into his hands, and holding it threateningly in the air.

“Get the fuck away,” He says, taking a step back as something drops heavily onto the table before him. A dark shadow with two glowing eyes look back at him, “I swear if you don’t-”

“Stop!” The shadow shrieks, stopping Goro in his tracks. He lowers the microscope, and looks down at the figure on the table. A black and white cat looks back at him with unnaturally glowing eyes, tail flicking irritably, “Stop that!”

“A… bot?” Goro murmurs, dropping the microscope back onto the table with a heavy thud, “What are you….”

“You must be _Goro_.” The cat says, voice dripping with unenthusiasm. His electric blue eyes rove over him in an obvious once over, “I’ve heard... _so much_ about you.”

“That’s great,” Goro snaps, still wrestling with confusion, “What the...who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Joker’s eyes and ears,” The cat says, fluffing up proudly. His black fur is sleek and well kept, and his white paws tread delicately over the table top. He dips his head jauntily, “Morgana, at your service. You might know me from my expert work on the back up generator?”

“Joker brought a _cat_ as his demolition expert?” Goro asks, staring at the small creature, aghast.

“What can I say? I’m jack of all trades,” Morgana hops down from the counter and circles Goro curiously, tail held high, “No need for thanks of course. But this all does beg the question - Where’s Joker?”

“We split up to try and find an evacuation kit,” Goro explains, crouching down to stroke a hand along Morgana’s back. The cat leaps away, looking offended.

“That idiot.” Morgana says, keeping just out of arm reach, lest Goro try to pet him again, “Well, we should probably go find him, shouldn’t we?”

“Seeing as the evacuation kit doesn’t seem to be here…” Goro says, straightening up and glancing around the lab. His eyes fall back to the file he had been looking at before the cat had leapt from the air duct. 

Sumire and Kasumi Yoshizawa stare back up at him. 

Carefully, he folds the stack of papers in half, tucking them into his waistband. The cat gives him a quizzical look but makes no comment. His plastic claws click against the flooring, and he opens his mouth as if to say something, when a low groan comes from the other end of the lab.

“Did you...was that you?” Morgana asks, looking at Goro hopefully. Goro swallows thickly, turning his head towards the operation table he had seen earlier through the window. 

A dark, upright silhouette is visible against the white curtains in the center of the room.

“Shhh,” Goro whispers, watching as white blinking lights turn in their direction, “Maybe we can get past without them noticing-”

“I think it’s too late for that!” Morgana yowls, darting under a table as the creature pushes a cart aside, moving forward at a pace that Goro does not like the looks of. 

“Move!” Goro shouts, vaulting over the table and making his way towards the walls. It isn’t until he’s halfway across the room that he realizes he’s overtaken Morgana in his haste, and he stops in his tracks looking around for him.

“I’m trying!” Morgana calls, barely visible as he darts between the creature’s bowed legs towards Goro. The creature stumbles, skin catching on the metal chassis of a nearby chemical hood. It tears itself free, sickly pale skin hanging loosely off its body. It draws closer. 

In his panic, Goro nearly trips into the eye wash station, bracing himself against its sink as he reels around, grabbing the creature’s forearm just in time, and holding it aloft over his head. It snaps his teeth at him, jaw unnaturally slack. This close Goro can see it’s eyes, pupils dilated and unfocused. 

“Hurry up!” Goro shouts, releasing his grip on the creature and ducking away, letting it crash against the eye wash station itself.

“I’m moving as fast as I can!” Morgana complains. Goro pushes one of the carts of scrap metal in its direction, motioning impatiently to Morgana whose small feet don’t take him nearly as quickly as one would hope.

“Can’t you run any faster?” Goro growls, leaning down to scoop the cat into his arms. Morgana wriggles in frustration. 

“I’m not some _animal_.” He protests, “Put me down-”

Behind them, the creature lunges, knees knocking loudly against the floor as it slumps forward, sharp fingers catching against Goro’s back.

“Shit!” He cries out, shrugging away from the bot, searing pain blooming across his spine. He clutches Morgana close to his chest and barrels through the double doors.

“Are you okay?” Morgana asks, as Goro hurries down the hall.

“Just a scratch,” Goro says, wincing. The back of his shirt feels wet and sticky, but he tries not to focus on it. He can hear the doors slamming open behind them, can hear the scrape of metal against the linoleum flooring, “It’ll be fine. We just... We just need to find Joker.”

They pass the hallway leading to the elevator, where the three android bodies still lie in a heap. One of them turns their head as they pass, the light of its eyes illuminating the floor in front of it, and Goro quickens his pace. 

“Joker!” He shouts, glancing through the open office doors for signs of movement. The doors to the conference room are open, and a cold breeze seems to be emanating from the room, “Joker?!”

Something is wrong.

“Joker what on earth-” Morgana cries as they round the corner, leaping from Goro’s arms in surprise. Joker has his knife pointed at Doctor Maruki’s throat, and the wall of the conference room is flanked with guards, guns drawn. The window behind Maruki is shattered into pieces, and Morgana’s hackles rise as he releases a tense hiss. The evacuation kit is already open on its place on the wall, rope and harnesses coiled in a mess on the window sill.

“How kind of you to join us Goro.” Maruki says cordially, eyes darting to the doorway.

Goro barely has a moment to process what’s happening before he’s pulling his gun from its holster, hands shaking with adrenaline and stress. His head and body ache, but he straightens his shoulders like he was taught, and stares Maruki down.

“Call off your guards,” Goro demands, raising his gun, aiming down the sight at Maruki’s forehead. If he has to make this shot, he will make it count. “Now.”

“Goro, you’re going to regret doing this.” Maruki says, voice dangerously calm despite his disheveled appearance. His hair is in disarray, and his glasses are slipping down his nose. He pushes his bangs back, pressing them slick against his head, “You can’t come back from this.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Goro says dryly. He clicks the safety off, “Now let us through.”

“You don’t understand.” Maruki begins, “upsetting the natural order of things - this isn’t the way to do it. There are methods, processes -”

“We’re just trying to root the evil out at its source,” Joker says pleasantly, pressing the blade of his knife to Maruki’s throat. The doctor’s adam's apple bobs nervously. “Have you ever heard of trickle down economics, doctor?”

“Watch your backs, “ Maruki says, face breaking into a smile. His eyes are wild, “Azathoth will be watching.”

“Azathoth-?” Joker begins.

“I said to call off your guards,” Goro says, “Call off your guards before it’s a decision you’re unable to make.”

Maruki’s mouth twists angrily, but he does not respond. He raises his hand in compliance, gesturing lazily to his guards. They slowly lower their guns.

“Let’s go!” Morgana shouts, already leaping out the window onto the narrow ledge outside, “Come on!” Joker lowers his knife, and gestures to Goro to exit first.

“Have it your way,” Maruki sighs, taking a half step forward. His gaze is hard and clear, and he raises his chin defiantly, “But let me make something clear - we are done playing childish games.”

There is a crash from down the hall, and all eyes shift towards the door. 

“I’m glad to hear we’re in agreement,” Joker says amicably, twirling his knife between his fingers, “You might find you have company on this floor and the next - some mutual friends of ours are eager to make your acquaintance again. That’s probably them now.”

“ _Akira_ , you don’t know what you’re messing with-”

The unfamiliar name rattles around Goro’s skull but he purses his lips, watching as Joker inhales sharply.

“Consider this a mercy,” Goro says, pushing past Maruki, broken glass crunching under his feet. He keeps the barrel of his gun trained on Maruki all the while, even as he hoists himself out into the night air. He holds out his free hand to Joker, who uses it as leverage to leap casually over the shards and onto the windowsill. “Next time, I won’t hesitate to shoot.”

Goro drops Joker’s hand, instead fastening the safety gear on, buckling the belt snugly around his waist and tugging the line taut. Joker follows suit, knocking elbows with Goro as he struggles to get the belts over his dark jacket.

“I wish I could say it was nice to see you again,” Joker says, addressing the doctor as he leans back over the precipice of the building, “But it really wasn’t.”

“Give them a ten minute head start.” Maruki says coldly to his guards, turning his back on them, white lab coat flapping behind him in his wake. Goro doesn’t relax until the doctor disappears from view, shoulders dropping with exhaustion, heart knocking against his ribs.

“You sure this is going to work, Joker?” Morgana asks, leaping from the sill onto Joker’s shoulder. He rubs his small face against Joker’s black curls and kneads his little paws anxiously in the fabric of his jacket.

“No,not at all” Joker says, LED display transitioning into a cheeky smile. Morgana’s fur stands on end, “But what’s the old saying? You only live once-?”

Morgana gives a loud electronic shriek as Joker drops two floors down with his safety equipment, letting loose a loud whoop of excitement. Goro puts away his gun and shakes his head in tired exasperation, slowly letting himself descend after the pair of idiots. 

“You’re hurt,” Joker says once Goro catches up with him. He extends his arm as if to touch, but seems to change his mind and pulls away.

Goro glances over his shoulder, catching sight of the tattered strands of his coat hanging loosely off his back and shrugs. 

“What now?” Goro asks, gripping onto the rope and swinging besides Joker. The cool air curls through his hair and he sighs, the back of his neck damp with sweat. His back stings, but the pain is bearable, hardly any more painful than a papercut. His feet slide idly against the pristine windows of the highrise as they descend. Joker turns to him in their reflection, tipping his head gently against Goro’s shoulder. “What do we-?”

“Now,” Joker says, reaching out and clasping Goro’s hand in his own. The bright neons of the city are illuminated in the dark glass of his display. “Now we go _home_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This marks the end of Act One!!! Consider this the mid season finale ;) Keep an eye out for the Joker POV interlude chapter coming out in the next few weeks, and Act Two in the near future!
> 
> Find us on twitter!  
> [cunningcapra](https://twitter.com/cunningcapra)  
> [glancenuggets](https://twitter.com/glancenuggets)  
> [wyllora](https://twitter.com/wyllora)  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Extra thanks to:  
> My beta readers: [The_Pen_Dragon](https://twitter.com/PentheDragon), and [Zeiskyte](https://twitter.com/Zeiskyte) for reviewing my work and always cheering me on, even when chapter three wouldn't take hold. You guys are the best and I would never had made it this far without your encouragement.
> 
> My fact checker: [TchimKicker](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/TchimKicker). Thank you for listening to all my complaining and questions about technology. I still don't understand science or computers. I'm so sorry. 
> 
> My fellow GoroMods!: I love you all so much, I am so lucky to have found a family in you guys, and to know that you all have had my back. I appreciate every moment spent with you all, and all the hard work put in to make this event go as smoothly as possible. I am so proud of you guys.


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